


I Need You (Get Up)

by WednesdaysDaughter



Series: For Madison [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WednesdaysDaughter/pseuds/WednesdaysDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His blood is pounding in his ears and his stomach is churning and he feels as if he’s lost pints of blood and he probably has. He starts to hyperventilate and he can feel it creep up his spine and through his throat. That uncomfortable sensation his body can’t handle so it does the only thing it can.</p>
<p>He faints.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Need You (Get Up)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just one fic for my dearest friend Madison whose birthday is Saturday. It was also her idea for me to post this on here even though I was kinda just writing it for fun and for her only, but what the lady wants, the lady gets. Also I've never been shot, but I've fainted quite a bit in my day so I took those sensations and tried to put them into words because it's kinda scary and really odd and I felt like this would be a great outlet to examine said sensations when not actually fainting.

His name is being called – yelled – but everything fades until the noises feel like they’re a thousand miles away.

He can’t stop running even though he knows he’s been hit. His adrenaline is pushing him to the tree line, forcing him to run through the agonizing pain that’s about to catch up with him. His eyes take in a war scene and his legs finally give up when he’s within reach of a tree. Stiles collapses against it and feels the nausea settle in.

His heart is pounding in his ears and his stomach is churning and he feels as if he’s lost pints of blood and he probably has. He starts to hyperventilate and he can feel it creep up his spine and through his throat. That uncomfortable sensation his body can’t handle so it does the only thing it can.

He faints.

A minute, maybe two, passes and his eyes flicker open. He wishes they had stayed closed – he was laughing with Scott in the Jeep on their way to Derek’s for a barbeque. He knows it was a dream, a fantasy his brain created to counteract the reality.  He looks down to see his hands coated in his own blood and he’s out again as someone slides into the dirt next to him.

“Stiles!”

He’s floating. This time he’s running on the beach with his mom by his side and he can see his dad in the distance wrestling with Scott as Melissa and Isaac watch on, amused. Allison and Lydia are sunbathing and they scream when Erica dumps a bucket of cold water over them. Boyd and Danny are putting the picnic together and they all turn to smile at him as he runs by. Stiles turns away and can see Derek rising from the ocean foam, beaming and opening his arms.

Stiles doesn’t care that it’s a dream – a fevered illusion due to an overactive imagination and a brain that can’t handle the fact he’s probably dying. Stiles wants to stay here forever. When he reaches Derek everything blacks out and he can hear panicked voices calling his name. His body is being poked and prodded and his head is splitting in two. His body is slick with a cold sweat and he feels like he’s going to throw up. Everyone is too loud, it’s too much –it hurts so much.

He wants to go back to the beach.

He wants his mom.

Time dissolves into a colored blur and darkness swallows him. This time there is no beach, there is no barbeque. There is only the absence of light and he’s floating in a sea of it.

When he comes to he can hear beeping. It’s so familiar and when the sterile scent of the hospital hits his nose he gags a little. His whole body is heavy and he has trouble moving his head to look around. His arm has a needle in it and his chest is covered in gauze. He can see little red stains and he wonders when someone is going to come in and change his bandages. There’s a dull throb in the back of his head, but other than that he can’t feel much. His body feels like it fell asleep and is reluctant to wake up and feel the prickling of pins and needles.

It takes a couple minutes for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when they do he sees his dad hunched over in a chair to his left while Scott’s sleeping in the chair on his right. Stiles looks around and sees Derek standing in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee. A lump forms in Stiles’ throat as he takes in Derek’s disheveled appearance and he opens his mouth to apologize, but then Scott stirs. His eyes blink at Stiles a couple of times before they widen and he jumps up.

“Stiles!”

He exclaims, which causes the Sheriff to jerk awake, his hand automatically reaching for his gun.

Stiles looks at his dad and feels his eyes sting with hot tears and then he’s being pulled into a tight embrace that makes his muscles scream in protest. He ignores them in favor for clinging to his dad like a lifeline.  When he looks up, Derek’s gone and Stiles tries to ignore the knot in his gut.

Scott practically throws himself onto the bed when the Sheriff lets go and Stiles croaks out a laugh when Scott refuses to be moved when the doctor shows up. Melissa sighs in exasperation at her son’s antics, but her eyes shimmer with unshed tears when she leans down and kisses Stiles’ forehead.

“Pull another stunt like this and I’ll make sure you’re stuck in this bed for a month,” she threatens and Stiles can’t help but grin up at her.

The next couple hours are filled with questions and re-bandaging of the wounds in his chest. Apparently he’d gotten shot twice. Stiles didn’t need to be told to omit the real reason why he was in the woods that night. He didn’t think the doctor would be keen on letting him out if he mentioned an epic battle between hunters, werewolves, and a handful of vengeful witches. Okay, sorry – they were Druids: Morally twisted Druids.

Stiles’ life couldn’t get any weirder.

The cover story Scott had come up with was so believable that Stiles had to refrain from beaming with pride. He did offer Scott a subtle thumbs up when everyone left though and Scott grinned. Allison, Lydia, and Isaac dropped by later after Stiles had managed to assure his dad he was okay enough to be left alone.

They didn’t stay long, just long enough to fill him in on what happened after he went down. The hunters who had shot him were arrested and after seeing Derek almost tear their “leader” in two, the Druids backed off and were no longer seeking a turf war in Beacon Hills.

“He was scary,” Scott admits and Stiles winces. Lydia pats his arm and changes the topic until Stiles can barely keep his eyes open.

“We’ll come see you tomorrow,” Allison promises and Stiles remembers waving at them before slipping back into the darkness.

He dreams of the woods, of bleeding out in Derek’s arms, and he jolts awake when he feels someone running their fingers through his hair. He relaxes into Derek’s chest and drifts in and out of sleep for a while until he’s not tired anymore.

“So,” he begins awkwardly, “how mad at me are you right now?”

Stiles can feel Derek glaring at him and he grimaces.

“That mad huh?”

Stiles’ attempt at levity falls flat and he can feel the tension coursing through Derek’s body. He curls closer and lays his hand over Derek’s heart. He doesn’t say anything for a while and when Derek breaks the silence it causes a sharp pain in Stiles’ chest.

“Your heart stopped: Twice. Your heart stopped Stiles.  I was in the waiting room and I could hear it stop. There was nothing I could do.”

The agony in his voice makes Stiles tremble and he clings to Derek, whispering, “I’m so sorry,” into Derek’s chest as if the words will sink into his skin and soothe the ache. Derek’s hand runs up and down his back until Stiles can breathe again.

Stiles knows he can’t just sit on the sidelines and Derek knows it to. So he doesn’t ask that Stiles be more careful, he doesn’t tell Stiles what’ll happen if his heart stops and doesn’t start up again. Derek doesn’t try to guilt Stiles into staying at home when he throws himself into danger. Instead Stiles cranes his neck and Derek leans in and their kiss says everything they can’t. They trade kisses until Stiles grows drowsy, and Derek makes a move as if to slide off the bed. Stiles tightens his fingers in Derek's shirt and shakes his head.

“If I wake up and you’re not here, I am going to let my dad shoot you.”

He pauses and then adds on.

“And then I’ll shoot you with the right bullets once I can move my hand above my hips.”

He feels Derek huff in amusement against his forehead, but he stops trying to escape so Stiles counts it as a win. He doesn’t dream much, but when he opens his eyes in the morning Derek is still curled around him in the small hospital bed.

He smiles and not even the look on his dad’s face when he comes in ten minutes later could make the stupid fuzzy feeling in his chest go away.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate tagging and I hate titles and I hate endings. I don't hate this fic though and apparently Madison didn't either so I'll consider this a win. I'm planning on posting two more smaller fics during the week before posting the big one I've been writing for her actual birthday.


End file.
